A Curse in Darkness by Sherilee Gray
Chapter 5
Willow
“This place gives me the creeps,”Magnolia said. Bram cawed, making the whole scene a hell of a lot more macabre, and flew over to perch on one of the headstones.
I, on the other hand, found this place peaceful, kind of comforting. I glanced at my sister. “I don’t know why. Everyone here is family. And you didn’t need to come. Ren and I could’ve handled it.” Ren was already on the other side of the cemetery, looking for the items on my list.
She shrugged. “It’s good for me to learn these things. Creating elixirs and potions is one thing, but harvesting our own ingredients is part of it. I need to desensitize myself.”
“True. But you’ve been coming here since you were a baby, I’m not sure what has you so freaked out.”
“Iris told me that Morag was a zombie and lay awake in her coffin, waiting for someone to come so she could drag them in with her ’cause she was lonely.”
I spun on her. “What? Iris said that?”
Mags nodded and laughed her sweet musical laugh. “She was pissed at me after I put pepper on her pillow because I wanted to hear her sneeze.”
Iris had this squeaky, high-pitched sneeze that cracked us all up. She was super embarrassed by it. I chuckled. “You were so asking for that.”
“I know,” Mags said, still grinning.
“Well, we can think of this as a field trip. And I’ll protect you from Morag.” Our family burial grounds were behind the house and a place of great power and plentiful resources. Every blade of grass, every pebble and flower petal, held magic. Our ancestors were buried here, and since magic never left us completely—even when one of us died—every crumbling bone continued to pump magic into the earth.
We harvested the dirt, flowers, rocks, and stones for spells and elixirs, to ward or hex, or unbind places or objects. The uses were limitless. If a coven had a nice burial ground, especially large and old like ours, they were considered formidable and not to be messed with. No other coven had one more powerful, more impressive than ours. Which was why it was warded to the gills. Only people we wanted here could pass through the cemetery gates.
A car door closed, and I glanced at our neighbor’s house. Cora Cates had lived next door for ten years and was Else’s bestie. Her grandson Brody, who had moved in with her a year ago, after he’d lost his mom, was dating Iris. They’d been hot and heavy for the last six months, and they were currently making out by the car, not realizing they had an audience.
“Gross,” Mags bit out. “That guy is such a douchebag.”
I raised a brow. Brody was a nice guy. He took care of his grandmother, worked several jobs to make sure she had everything she needed, and doted on our sister. “What can you possibly have against the guy?”
She shrugged.
“Is this what you’re looking for?” Ren called.
Mags ran to him. “Ren found them!”
I headed over and, sure enough, there was a cluster of Calla lilies, just as Mom said there would be. We did a lot of planting here. Well, Mom and Art did, always making sure we had what we needed. Mom had a wicked green thumb and was never happier than when she was here puttering in the cemetery gardens, and yes, the reason she named her children after flowers and a tree was not just to carry on a tradition started by our great-great-grandmother.
Crouching down, I took out my sheers and cut the two I needed, making sure not to disturb the roots, and placed them carefully in my bag.
“What’s next?” Mags asked.
“I need to fill this jar with dirt.” I handed her the large mason jar and the trowel. “Over there by Beatrix. You’ll need to offer blood first though.”
Beatrix was our great-great-great-aunt and one of the most powerful witches in the history of our family.
“How much?” my sister asked, pulling out her small knife—we each had one, all different and beautiful in their own way, given to us by our mother when we were thirteen.
“A few drops will be fine.” Most things here you couldn’t remove without an offering. Some things like the flowers, herbs, and shrubs, things Mom planted, could be freely taken, but soil and stones, anything from the ancient trees here, even the grass, you needed to provide an offering. Blood was our coven’s currency. We went through a lot of Band-Aids.
“Come help me, Ren,” Mags said as she grabbed him by the wrist and dragged him across the cemetery.
The sight of Ren being manhandled by my baby sister would have usually had me laughing, but after my shitty day, I didn’t have it in me. The conversation I’d had with Rebecca, telling her I’d found no trace of her daughter, had been awful.
If Warrick had done what he said he would, Jane’s body would be somewhere in the city now. I hoped they made it look like an accident and not the brutal end she’d come to. But with the injuries she’d had, I wasn’t sure that was possible. That was all I could think about while I’d talked to Rebecca. Right then, she still had hope, still believed her daughter was alive and out there somewhere. She had no clue she was already dead. Already gone.
My phone beeped, and I tugged it from my back pocket, and my stupid belly flipped. Speaking of the sex-obsessed alpha-hole himself.
Warrick:Maddox is foaming at the mouth and bleeding from the eyes.
I stared down at his message and imagined him stabbing at the screen with those massive, blunt, often motor oil-stained fingers.
Willow:That can happen. Just make sure he can’t hurt himself or others. Any sign of Edric?
Warrick: No. What time you getting here in the morning?
Willow: Ten. I need to prepare. I’ll do the exorcism at noon.
Warrick:Good.
I shoved my phone back in my pocket and tried not to think about tomorrow. So many things could go wrong, and I’d be in a room full of hellhounds who probably wouldn’t love it if I accidentally killed one of them. Let’s hope that didn’t happen. I’d prefer to walk out of there in one piece tomorrow.
* * *
My hair was still damp from my shower when I walked downstairs and into the living room an hour later. There was a fire blazing, and Rose was sitting in front of the TV, a woolen blanket draped over her knees.
She smiled at me when I walked in. “How did it go at the cemetery?”
I sat and lifted her feet onto my lap and started rubbing them. Her feet were always so cold. “Good. I’m all set to vanquish an evil spirit tomorrow.”
“You think that’s it? That once it’s gone, this task will be over?”
“I don’t think so. There’s Edric as well, another hound. He’s still on the loose, but once they bring him in, I hope so.”
“It’s a shame Zinnia isn’t in town,” she said. “She could’ve used her magic to contact the sprits.”
I wish that was an option. “Zinny’s family and a member of our coven. I can’t ask family for help, remember?”
“I hate that rule.”
“Me too.” Rose looked thinner, her wrists so painfully tiny. “You want a snack? I’m in the mood for some popcorn.” We were always trying to feed her, but she had the appetite of a sparrow.
She shrugged her thin shoulders. “Sure.”
“Be right back.” I hit the kitchen and put a bag of popcorn in the microwave, closed my eyes, and drew in a calming breath.
“What’s going on?” Iris asked, walking in.
“You just finished work?”
Iris picked up a plate someone had left on the table. “Yeah, it was quiet tonight. Jim let me leave early.” She put it in the dishwasher, grabbed a cloth, and went back to wipe down the table. She couldn’t help herself.
“Rose’s in the living room. We were going to have some popcorn. Are you seeing Brody tonight or can you hang out with us?”
“Brody’s working.” Iris looked toward the muted light coming from the living room door. “How’s she doing?”
The microwave beeped, and I took the popcorn out. “Tired.”
“She’s getting worse,” Iris said, voice shaking.
My stomach churned. “Yes.”
Iris looked down at her hands, and I watched as she crushed them into tight fists. When she looked up, her eyes were bright with fury. “Why is this happening to her, Wills? What if…what if she…”
“Don’t,” I said. Thinking the worst was hard enough, actually saying it, hearing the words out loud was unbearable. “I’m going to pass this task and kick ass in my final trial, the mother will gift us with more power, and Roe will be okay. She has to be.”
Iris nodded and grabbed a bowl from the cabinet. I dumped in the popcorn, then watched as she drew a calming breath, picked it up, and carried it into the living room. I heard her greet Roe, teasing her, making light, joking. Forcing down her pain and fear for our sister.
I plastered a smile on my face as well and followed, taking my seat again at the end of the couch and pulled Roe’s feet back onto my lap.
Mags walked in a short time later and sat on the floor at the other end of the couch, and Roe started playing with our baby sister’s hair. Mags had the most beautiful thick, wavy, black hair, and we used to fight over who got to brush it in the mornings.
It’d been so long since we’d all hung out like this. That was partly my fault…no, it was all my fault. I’d been so caught up with this whole Keeper thing, with training, with making sure I was ready when the mother finally called me back, and I missed them so much. I missed this.
“Movie?” Iris asked.
Mags grabbed some popcorn and tossed it in her mouth. “Something dirty,” she said and grinned.
Rose giggled, and then we were all laughing.
Iris scrolled through Netflix. “Something dirty coming up.”
* * *
Three hours later, I woke with my neck bent at a weird angle and still on the couch. Mags was lying on the floor under a blanket. Iris was head back, mouth wide open, snoring, Nia at her feet, and Roe was curled up in a tiny ball. None of them stirred. That’s when I felt it, the tingling at my side, like a million fire ants marching across my skin.
I quickly slid Roe’s legs from my lap and climbed off the couch…and bit back a startled cry.
Bram sat across the room in an armchair. He was the same age as Ren, nineteen, and he was a big guy in his human form, lean but extremely tall and broad shouldered. He studied me now, glossy black hair hanging around his face, and those black as coal eyes aimed at me under a heavy brow. He was beautiful, but not in a classically handsome way. More striking. His nose was prominent, jaw square but with a bit of a point to it, and he had sharp cheekbones. Bram could also hover in a shadow form, a state between his human and crow form, and some of that shadow seemed to hover around him all the time.
He blended into dark places easily, and given his size and being the quiet guy he was, he had a tendency to scare the shit out of people.
“Sorry, Bram, didn’t know you were there.”
He shrugged a broad shoulder. “Okay?”
“Yep, all good,” I lied. “But I have to head out.” Then I rushed from the room before he could ask any more questions.
My keys were on the counter, and I scooped them up, along with my jacket and satchel, checked that my blade was still at my hip, and quietly slipped out the front door, pulling it shut behind me.
Something was telling me to get in my truck and drive into the city, and I knew after the last task, I had to go with these hunches. I winced as I started my old truck, praying I didn’t wake everyone, and rolled down the driveway and onto the road.
The tingling feeling continued, growing in intensity the farther I went, which I assumed had to mean I was heading in the right direction.
Twenty minutes later, I was almost in the city. Roxburgh was busy this time of night. Honestly, the city never slept, and it was also the hub of demon activity. Though things here had quieted down a little since Lucifer returned to Hell—a long story, but for a while he was locked out of Hell, and his evil son, Diemos, took over, doing all sorts of twisted evil things. I sure as shit wasn’t the only one happy things had settled down around here.
My phone rang and I didn’t need to check the screen to know who it was. Cursing, I hit the call button. “Yeah?”
“Where the fuck are you going?” Warrick’s deep voice growled through the speakers.
I ground my teeth. “I have to say, I’m not a huge fan of you constantly tracking me, alpha.”
“Tough shit. Where are you going?”
“No idea. I’ll find out when I get there.”
“Dove,” he said, and the way he said it was obviously through gritted teeth.
This was getting ridiculous. I didn’t get this obsession he had with me. And it wasn’t like I could call the cops or put out a restraining order. He was a literal beast created in Hell by Lucifer, and he wanted me with a single-minded focus and relentless determination that was…yeah, more than a little intimidating.
“Why me?” I asked over the sound of his heavy breathing filling my car, and surprising myself.
“What?”
“You say you want me. You follow me. You track me. Why?”
“Because you are…”
“If you say because I’m yours, I will hang up and never answer another one of your phone calls again.
He made a rough sound. “Then because I want…”
“Same goes if you say you want me under you, or you want to fuck me. Or any variation of the same theme.”
Silence.
Why did that sting? It shouldn’t. I knew this already. It was an animal thing, a lust thing, and not a me thing. “That’s what I thought.”
“Hang on a minute—”
“You need to find someone else to focus all that horny energy on. It’s wasted on me. I need to go.”
“Dove,” he snarled.
I disconnected and ignored the barrage of calls and text messages that followed. He was in Linville and I was in Roxburgh. He was fast, but it took thirty minutes by car, and a little less when he shifted and ran. With any luck, I’d be done with whatever this was and home again by the time he got here. Because there was no doubt in my mind that he was already on his way.
I turned left, then right, then left again, weaving through the streets, no idea where I was going, only that this was where I needed to be. I ended up in a fairly rough part of the city. There were a lot of dive bars around here, and this particular area was known for its frequent gang altercations and the odd semi-regular murder.
The tingling grew stronger, to the point it made me want to scratch at my skin. I pulled over, parking across from a bar, and it was like a siren going off in my head. Here. Whatever was about to happen, it was here.
The sign above the door was neon and lopsided, and there were a couple letters missing. I assumed it was supposed to be Angus’s Bar. Instead, Anus Bar flashed unwelcomingly. Tough break, Angus.
Tingles danced across my scalp and down my spine. Yes, this was most definitely where I was supposed to be. I checked for my blade again and shoved the car door open. I’d taken two steps across the street when a thump from behind had me spinning around.
Ren was standing there, running his fingers through his wind-blown hair.
“What are you doing here? Were you hiding in the back of my truck?”
He closed the space between us. “I wasn’t hiding, I was resting there in case you needed me. I was right.”
Goddammit.
There was nothing I could do about it now. He was here, and I knew him well enough to know there was no way I could make him stay in the truck while I went into the bar. “You need to do as I say, Ren, I mean it.” The prickling feeling at my side was so bad it was distracting as hell. “No heroics.”
He muttered something.
“What was that?”
“I’m not a damned child, Willow.”
Hmm. When I looked at him, I still saw the scrawny fourteen-year-old kid, the boy who followed me everywhere like an excited puppy.
“You said you’ve been training?”
He straightened. “Yes.”
“With a weapon?”
His eyes widened slightly, more than likely realizing the full magnitude of this situation, then his jaw firmed and he shook his head and patted his jacket pocket. “But I have a knife.”
I inwardly groaned. “I have no idea what’s brought me here, but I know it’s not good. You do not take that knife out of your pocket, do you hear me? Until you know how to use it, you’re a danger to yourself and everyone else.”
“Willow—”
“I don’t have time for this, Ren. Either do as I say or go back to the truck.”
His eyes flashed bright gold—his fox not cool with the way I was talking to him—but I couldn’t be gentle right then. I needed him to understand how dangerous this could be. I couldn’t lose him, he was too important to me, to all of us.
“Fine,” he said low. “But there’s no way I’m waiting in the goddamn truck.”
I gave him a nod and he followed me across the street. I slipped my blade free as we approached the door, sliding it up under my sleeve. There were low-level vibrations radiating from it now, letting me know danger was close by, telling me to be ready.
The more I used the knife’s gifts, the easier I could read its vibrations. But if there was imminent danger, it sounded an alarm in my body, in my mind, that was impossible to miss. It set my muscles in motion, adrenaline shooting through my veins, and the blade made a kind of shrieking sound that only I could hear. And when I threw it, as long as the range wasn’t too far, I never missed.
We reached the door. Music was spilling out, classic rock, of course. There was a lot of other noise as well, and at first I thought what I was hearing was loud singing or maybe even fighting, but then I pushed the door open.
I was wrong.
It was screaming.